It's the year 2038 and a deadly virus has consumed the world for more than 14 years.
In Denmark, an unknown politician took it upon himself to create a safe space from the infected. As long as you abide by the 8 Obligations, you are allowed to live...
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#triggerwarning
"There's going to be another conviction this morning."
My Master walks into the kitchen and I instantly pour him a cup of the so-called coffee. I hand it to him and backs away with my head lowered. I try to stay out of his way as much as possible. As he sips the beverage, I can see the discontent in his face. He always complains about the coffee. How it's nothing like the real thing. I never respond. What can I say? I've never tried the real thing. And I can't do anything about the ingredients I get provided with to make the beverage for him. But still, he punishes me for it sometimes. Not always, but sometimes. I hold my breath and close my eyes as I wait for him to hit me. But he doesn't. He just walks past me. My master must be in a very good mood today. Discreetly, I take a deep breath and count my blessings.
"Oh? Who is on trial this time?"
My master's wife asks, as he places the now empty cup on the table while chuckling. The mean kind of chuckle he usually does, when he is being a sadistic prick and makes up rules, he knows to be impossible to follow. And then proceed to physically punish me for my failure.
"It's Clary Morgenstern. She had it coming if you ask me. I've always said she wouldn't be able to live by the Obligations, haven't I?"
"Yes, you have, honey." The wife fixes my Master's tie and lingers for a second before removing her hands. It's clear to me that she wants to touch him, but he won't let her. He follows the obligations to the letter. She doesn't. But he doesn't know about that. Thankfully. Or I would be killed. I have no doubt.
It's disgusting how she has always looked at the men around her. It was bound to happen. She is filthy, and she must be punished. Even the Chancellor knows that."
The wife steps away with slightly trembling hands and takes a seat at the table. I understand her fear. Because her fear, is my fear. If he knew what happened when he was at work... there is no doubt, he would turn us both in.
"Do you have time for breakfast, dear?" Her voice hardly shows any signs of trimmer as she speaks. She is a good actor; I must give her that.
"No sorry. I want to be there when they condemn her." He grabs his keys and heads for the door. "And I'll be home late. I want to watch her get banished."
"Yes darling. Have fun and stay safe."
Have fun... I always hated the way the wives tell their husbands to have fun when they are going to see a Banishment. Have fun.... Have fun watching someone run for their life. Have fun watching them get mauled and devoured by the Creatures. Have fun...
As the door closes, the wife stands up then walks over to me. God, I hate this part. She reaches into the kitchen drawer, the one place where her husband would never look, and pulls out those thin, soft gloves that she loves.
"Put them on and meet me in the bedroom."
I do as I'm told. I always do as I'm told. Now, at least. I learned my lesson when I was younger.
I pull of my rubber gloves that I use for work and throw them into the trash. Then slowly, I put on the gloves she handed me.
We must always use gloves to reduce the risk of infection. It has been that way ever since the Outbreak. There are different gloves for different occasions. I usually wear rubber gloves. All house-servants do. Then there are cotton gloves for everyday use, work gloves for those who do hard labor, thick gloves for the people who works outside in cold weather, and finally the thin, soft gloves. Those are for people who have kids or work with kids. They are pleasant against the skin and resembles some kind of physical contact. But how she has gotten a pair, I don't know. And I won't ask. I just put them on and do what she wants me too.
As soon as the gloves are on, I walk to the bedroom. My heart pounds in my chest as always. I'm terrified of what to come. The fear of the husband coming home is tremendous and nauseating.
I swallow thickly as I remove my pants. I hate this with every fiber of my being, but I know I have to do this. I know the consequences of disobedience all too well. And I will never go down that road again. I've learned my lesson.
